


Fever

by thecarlysutra



Series: Body Heat [2]
Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Restraints, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: Ray's first heat after coming to the Badlands.





	Fever

  
Ray started getting sick after a shift at the fire line. It was wildfire season in the Badlands, and one of his duties as a deputy with the Bear Creek sheriff's office was to turn back motorists getting too close to the blaze. He hated it. The wildfires terrified him. He had grown up on the east coast, where all the fire he ever came in contact with was tame and manmade: fire lived in campfires and fireplaces, and occasionally metal barrels in the backyard where people burned their leaves. It didn't tear across the countryside like a curse, choking the air with smoke and burning your lungs, eating everything in its path. 

Ray went home and took a shower to get the smoke stink off him. By the time he got out, his lungs felt better, but his body felt heavy, bone tired. 

“You look like shit,” Walter said cheerfully. 

“Thanks,” Ray said. “I'm going to bed.”

There was real concern in Walter's voice now. “You don't want any dinner or anything?” 

Ray shook his head. He sleepwalked to the bedroom, and collapsed on the bed face first, still wearing nothing but a towel. 

He slept. 

***

Ray woke to find himself dressed in pajamas and tucked under the covers. He frowned; he was usually a light sleeper, but he must have really been out if he'd slept through Walter dressing him and maneuvering him into bed. He had also apparently slept on his back, which he hadn't done since he was an infant. He started out of bed, and that's when he felt it, a fever flush all over. He laid back down. 

Walter came out of the bathroom. “How we feeling this morning, sweetheart?” 

“Can you take me to the doctor? I think I've got a fever.”

Walter's lips thinned. “That your only symptom?” he asked, and Ray couldn't read his tone. 

Ray sat up, moved experimentally to see if his head or muscles hurt. The heat throbbed through him, but there wasn't any pain. Nothing else was unusual, except… 

He blushed. “I'm, um, wet. I slicked.”

Walter nodded slowly. “You're not sick, Ray.”

“I have a fever--” 

“It's your heat, honey. Think about it. You've been off those injections for six weeks; you're past due.”

“Oh,” Ray said softly. 

Walter came to sit by him on the bed. “I'll take you to the doctor if you want, but you won't like what they do for omegas in heat.”

Ray felt butterflies flutter in his stomach. “What do they do?” 

“Well, the only way to alleviate the symptoms is to breed, right? So they'll… simulate breeding.” 

The butterflies revolted. Ray assumed he looked sick, because Walter spoke gently. 

“They won't… there are, you know, devices.”

“Oh, God,” Ray said. He sank back into the pillows. 

Walter petted his hair. “We'll stay in. I'll take care of you. I'll get you something cool to drink, some cool cloths to put on your skin, and when you want--only if you want--we can have sex. We'll do it any way you want it, okay? You'll feel better.”

Ray felt his lip tremble, and absolutely hated himself for it. 

“It's okay,” Walter soothed. “It only lasts a few days, and I'm gonna take care of you.”

“You can't just take off work because I--because I'm--” 

“The hell I can't.” He pressed a kiss to Ray's temple. “I'm not going anywhere. Except for the kitchen, now, to get you a cool drink. Hang tight, honey. Do you want me to change the sheets?”

“I'll put on a heat pad,” Ray muttered. “Change my pants. I don't think it bled through.”

Walter got up to go to the kitchen, but before he could leave the room, Ray stopped him. 

“Walter?” 

“Yeah, honey?” 

“Thanks.”

Walter smiled. “You got it, Ray.”

***

Ray stripped to his undershorts, girded with a heat pad. The fever was getting worse, and he panted and writhed even as Walter stretched out fresh, ice water-soaked cloths across his skin. Forehead, chest, limbs. This was all he remembered from his first heat: the fever. He'd taken the suppressant before it could get any further. He was afraid of what would come next, honestly afraid. If anything truly frightened him, it was the thought of losing control. He had been teased, more than once, for how tight he held the reins, but if he couldn't trust himself, what could he trust? 

Walter. The thought came unbidden, but he knew in his bones that it was true. He could trust Walter. 

Walter was sitting next to him on the bed, lightly running his fingers through Ray's hair, which was something he liked a lot. Ray cuddled closer to him, pressing his burning body against Walter's. It felt nice. 

He slept. 

***

Ray dreamt. It was a long, long time ago, and he and Walter were from different tribes. Walter was the chief of his tribe, and Ray was a pretty virgin scrubbed and oiled and dressed in softest buckskin and ornaments of turquoise and dentalium. Ray's tribe presented him to Walter as a gift. Ray didn't understand the language Walter spoke, but he smiled when Ray was presented, and women from Walter's tribe took Ray to Walter's tent to wait. They stripped off his buckskin and his ornaments, and laid him out on a soft, furry buffalo pelt to wait. The sky got dark. The air got chilly. Finally, the tent's flap pulled back, and Walter came into the tent. Ray lay on his back on the buffalo skin, watched and waited as Walter undressed, as Walter climbed over him. Walter kissed him, and spoke to him sweetly with words he could not understand, and he held him and bred him over and over, his first night with his new bride. 

***

Ray woke aching, throbbing, panting. He'd slicked through his heat pad; his shorts and the sheets were soaked beneath him. Ray barely noticed. Before he even opened his eyes, he was intensely aware of Walter's proximity, of his sharp, alpha scent. Ray groaned, and clutched the wet bedclothes, and rubbed himself against the mattress. The heat pad was in the way, preventing much friction, and Ray, breathing hard, turned against Walter, buried his nose in the joint where his shoulder met his neck. He breathed in the good scent, felt it tingle through his bloodstream. Walter was only half awake, still slow from sleep, and he put his hands on Ray hesitantly, asking, “You okay?” 

Ray moaned. His whole body felt absolutely infected with sensation. Everything was too much. It was painful. He wanted so badly that it was painful. He didn't know how to put it into words; he didn't even know what to ask for. 

Walter pulled Ray close. He rubbed his back, pushed hair off his sweating forehead. 

“You're all right,” he murmured. “You're all right.”

Ray whined. He was not all right. He was sick with lust, his body had betrayed him, and he didn't know what to do. 

“Please,” he said, but he didn't know please what. He just wanted it to stop. 

Walter had some ideas, though. He pushed Ray to his back, moved over him. Walter pinned him to the mattress, his body pressing Ray to the bed. Walter nuzzled the pulse point in his neck for a moment, and Ray thought he was going to be kissed, but then Walter opened his mouth and clamped down his teeth on Ray's neck, and held him like that, biting down on his throat. 

Ray's breathing stuttered, and he lay still. He was surprised by the bite, and in a way it hurt, but more than that, it was… comforting? He felt calm pump through his veins, and his pulse went down a bit. He let his breathing slow, just took in the stimuli around him, the dull pain of the bite, the comfort of the pressure of Walter's body on his, Walter's by-now-familiar alpha scent. They had only been together a couple months, but already that smell lit up a part of Ray's brain that said MINE. Sometimes that scared him, but right now it was comforting. It was all so comforting. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, and then Walter let go. He kept his body blanketing Ray's, but he let go of his throat. The air stinging the bite marks hurt more than when Walter's teeth had been in his flesh. 

Walter petted Ray's hair. “Do you feel a little better?” 

Ray exhaled. “Yes, alpha.” He heard himself say the words and was equal parts embarrassed and aroused. 

Walter kissed him. “I'm in charge from here out, you understand? You're going to do what I say, or I'm going to make you. Am I understood?” 

Ray swallowed thickly. He hated this and craved it in equal measures. “Yes, alpha.”

“Good boy. Strip your clothes off, and then lay back on the bed. I'm going to restrain you.”

Ray's gut twisted as he took his clothes off. They'd taught him at the academy that omegas had no natural aversion to being restrained, and he had never had an omega under arrest fight the cuffs. Would the restraints make him feel the way Walter's teeth on his throat had? 

Ray got back on the bed just as Walter came up with the restraints. They were padded leather cuffs with straps, the kind they used in hospitals. Ray lay back and obediently offered his arms and legs in turn as Walter bound each wrist and ankle to the bed frame. 

“Why do you have these?” Ray asked. 

“I've helped omegas through their heats before,” Walter said. Ray felt jealousy choking him. He didn't say anything, but Walter must have noticed the look on his face, because he added, gently, “That's ancient history, Ray. You're the only one that I want.”

Ray relaxed. He pulled experimentally against the restraints; they held tight, holding him firmly in place. Maybe it was his omega biology, but he found it almost comforting to be contained like this. Walter was looking down at him. He began unbuttoning his shirt, and Ray shivered. Walter could do anything he wanted to him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He thought maybe he should be afraid, but he wasn't. He trusted Walter, trusted him more deeply and fully than he had ever trusted anyone. He knew Walter was going to take care of him, and he wanted him to. 

Walter crawled over him on the bed. He kissed Ray's face, his neck. He ran his tongue over the painful little ridges left by his teeth. Ray felt a flush wash over him anew, felt his cock twitch. He raised his hips as much as he could with the restraints, thrust his cock against Walter's leg. Walter smiled. 

“You want me to touch you, baby?” he asked. He took Ray in hand, stroked him slowly, putting some muscle behind it. Ray moaned, pushed up into the touch. Walter bent over him, scooting down, and he took Ray's cock into the heat and delicious wetness of his mouth. Ray's fever flared. He closed his eyes and focused on just the feel of Walter's mouth on him, how good and wet and nice it felt. He tried to relax in the face of the building pressure, tried to let everything go, but desire just built and built until he thought he was going to burst out of his skin. He whined, desperate, and Walter looked up at him, his expression soft. 

“I know you wanna come, sweetheart,” he said. “The first one after your heat starts can be hard to get to. Just try to relax. I know it's hard, but you're a good boy, and you can do it.”

Ray bit his lip. He nodded. “I'll try.”

“I'm gonna loosen the straps on your legs a little, but I don't want you wriggling too much. Take advantage, and I'll take back the tether.”

Ray nodded, and watched Walter adjust the restraints on his legs to give the straps some slack. He was going to ask why, but before he could, Walter was between his legs, moving him so he was spread wide with his knees bent. That was why he'd loosened the straps; he wanted to move him. Walter bent over him again, and he thought he was going to work on sucking him off some more, but instead Walter used his hands to spread Ray's cheeks open, and his mouth to tease his hole. Ray groaned as Walter's tongue circled his entrance. He quivered, breaths coming short, as Walter rimmed him, as he slipped his fingers through Ray's slick and up into him, working open the tight ring of muscle. Ray flushed, his fever burning, and groaned and panted as Walter worked him open, worked him loose. He was more sensitive than he'd been in his whole life, and every touch set off fireworks of pleasure. Walter reached up to stroke Ray's cock while he fucked him with his tongue and his fingers, and it was enough, it was finally enough, and Ray came so hard his vision blacked out for a second. 

Ray's head spun. When the world came back into focus, Walter was leaning over him, and he was kissing him, and he was slipping on a condom and positioning himself between Ray's legs. 

“Yes, alpha, please,” Ray moaned. 

Ray could smell Walter's arousal, musky and strong, but Walter was looking at him with such tenderness and was touching him so gently that Ray knew he must exhibiting tremendous control not to hurt or scare him. Walter cupped Ray's face in his hand, running his thumb over Ray's cheek, and said, “I've got you, baby. Don't worry; I've got you.”

“I know,” Ray said, surprising them both. 

Walter pushed inside him slowly and with care. Ray groaned, long and low, as Walter filled him. It was like water after days wandering the desert. It was like food after starvation, like the cool face of your pillow after thirty hours on the job. It was perfect. It fed him. Walter began moving inside him, the rhythm slow but strong. Ray closed his eyes, and listened to Walter's ragged breathing and the insistent throb of his own pulse, felt Walter moving inside him, so _right_ it was like his own organ, like his own heart beating in his chest. The desperate, incessant need was answered, and his body stilled. There was soundness in his flesh again. Ray opened his eyes and watched Walter's face, the fondness in his eyes and the way his lips trembled slightly as he took in heavy breaths. He wished for the first time that his hands weren't bound, because he wanted to touch him. It was the only way he could express the immense gratitude he felt; he couldn't trust his words to do that. He'd never had a silver tongue. He'd always been quiet, someone who showed their feelings by doing. Now he couldn't do anything, anything but receive. He wanted to apologize to Walter, to thank him, but then Walter said, “You're such a good boy, Ray. You're taking it so good for me, baby, you're _perfect_ , absolutely perfect,” and Ray relaxed. He didn't have to do anything. Walter didn't want to be paid. He just wanted Ray. 

Walter took up the tempo a bit, thrusting harder, faster. He angled Ray's hips, nailing his prostate, and Ray came again, crying out. Walter had been waiting for it, and once Ray stopped shuddering, he came himself, grunting and going still, his knot thick and hard inside Ray, stretching him further, filling him completely. Ray breathed, holding still, just feeling it. Walter shifted over him carefully, lay atop him, the knot still in place. 

Ray slept. 

***

On the fourth day, Ray woke cool and dry. He sat up experimentally, and found himself free of pain or fever. He got up and got ready for work. The past three days were like a half-remembered dream: vivid but jumbled, incomplete. The only constant was Walter. Ray found him in the kitchen, eating a piece of toast over the sink instead of dirtying a plate. 

“Looks like you're feeling better,” he said. 

Ray didn't answer. He put his arms around him, and kissed him deep. Maybe it wasn't terribly eloquent, but he was pretty sure it got the message across. 

This wasn't over. Ray would have many more heats. The thought would have terrified him, but Walter was here with him, and he knew Walter would be there with him every heat, any time Ray needed him. And that was more than enough to get him through.  



End file.
